


Unsent

by congratcha_well_done



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 09:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/congratcha_well_done/pseuds/congratcha_well_done
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes we have to leave the ones we love. But we never really have to leave. And when we are gone, we still have things to say. "So I write this letter, That I'll never send, Just so I remember the beauty of the end... Falling never hurts but the landing does." - Paloma Faith <br/>This fic is a selection of letters written by Cas, to Dean when he leaves the bunker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlie/gifts).



This is written for someone, even if you are not this someone though please feel free to enjoy it as well. But this serves and an apology, an I love you, and a promise to the only friend. And the one who knows. My notes to this someone are included in bold.  

 

 

**I knew I would write you this as soon as the idea came out of your mouth. I knew I would do this for you because things are changing. So to keep the stars in your eyes and the fire in my heart, this is halfway my apology in advance for things that are and are not under my control. The other half is to celebrate us. The silent kind of clamor that abodes our friendship. The kind of pain and the kind of joy that only we can know from our small little lives. So on the day of burning skin and watermelon flesh this is my gift. Forever and always considerably confused I'm indebted to you, the only one who will ever understand this. Because we are the only ones who know.**

 

**Only Ones Who Know -Arctic Monkeys**

**In a foreign place, the saving grace was the feeling,**

**That it was a heart that he was stealing,**

**Oh he was ready to impress and the fierce excitement,**

**The eyes are bright he couldn't wait to get away,**

**I bet the Juliet was just the icing on the cake,**

**Make no mistake no,**

 

**And even if somehow we could have shown you the place you wanted,**

 

**Well I'm sure you could have made it that bit better on your own,**

**And I bet she told a million people that she'd stay in touch,**

**Well all the little promises they don't mean much,**

**When there's memories to be made,**

**And I hope you're holding hands by new years eve,**

**They made it far too easy to believe,**

**That true romance cant be achieved these days,**

 

**And even if somebody could have shown you the place you wanted,**

**Well I sure you could have made it that bit better on your own,**

**You are the only ones who know**

 

Hello Dean, 

I hope this letter finds you well. No, actually I don't. I hope this letter never finds you, it's not for you. I still don't understand, even though I told you I did. Why did you make me go? You were the last person I had Faith in, my hope for reprieve in this crisis has gone so far awry, I do not think it can ever be regained. Dean I feel it so strongly now, fear, anger, sadness. There are so many woes, worries, and heartaches that come with human life. But you, by far, Dean Winchester, are the greatest worry of mine. And it hurts because I know that you haven't spared a thought for me after I left. Please stay safe Dean. So one day you can explain to me everything, everything ever. And keep Sam safe too, so he can keep you safe. 

Sincerely,

Castiel Angel of The Lord 

 

Hello Dean, 

I still have not heard from you. I haven't heard from anyone, it seems that I've been forgotten. I have a lot of questions, about the angels, you, Sam, Metatron, Abaddon, you, and mostly you. I did something bad today, I stole a bike. I rode it to the next town over and got a motel room with the fake credit card you gave me. For some reason I thought you'd be proud of that, I don't know why. I'm still waiting for you to come for me. It still hurts, but I've found a new word for it now. Abandonment. Once again, please be safe, and come find me soon. 

Sincerely,

Castiel Angel of The Lord

 

Hello Dean, 

I have come to the conclusion that you, nor anyone else is coming for me.  It's hard living without any word from the angels. But it's harder without hearing from you. I'm trying not blame you for making me leave. I know you must have a good reason. I hope you have a good reason. 

I fear I've become a frequenter of the library. I have a lot of humanity to catch up on. I've begun to read the great histories of the world from the beginning onward. Every once and a while, I'll come across a case of Devine Intervention and I recognize the work of my brethren. But that only provides a feeble distraction. I'm still waiting, but it's a different kind of waiting now. It's become the kind of wait that is more hopeful than true. 

Yours, 

Castiel 

 

Dean,

I fear I've become something I can't control. I am now renting a room at the motel two or three towns over. Close, but not close enough. I'm living on borrowed money and favors. My days consist of a liquor induced mornings and afternoons, and if I'm lucky, sometimes I get out of bed and catch the news. But I never hear of anything important. No death certificates of Dean Winchester on live tv. Nothing is important anymore. I drink to stop the screaming in my head. To not feel alone and useless anymore. To not feel anymore. A man offered me heroine the other day. It took all I had to say no. It's taken me three weeks to write this letter. I fear I am destroying myself. 

Yours, 

Cas 

 

Dean, 

My situation does not improve, it is amazing how my very life has depleted in these past weeks. How quickly I've crumbled under this pressing doom of eminent normalcy, like a marionette with its strings cut. I did not know how much I depended on your presence until it was gone. But now I fear it is too late. I can feel myself slipping, but you anchor  me.  For how much longer, though, I do not know. 

-Castiel 

 

Dean, 

I've quit drinking, cold turkey. That one experience I had with drugs has left me maimed. I've realized that they don't really help, they just mask the feelings that I'm so unaccustomed to. My days are once again captured by musty library books and I wouldn't have it any other way. Sometimes people talk to me but I rarely have anything to say back. It's so hard to exist without some large master plan unfurling above your head. It's so hard to be ordinary, to miss the ones you love. You've become a dream to me. Like a teenage girl's movie stars. Almost as if you are the Divine being fallen to earth, not me. The tables have turned and you are not keeping me grounded anymore, you are drawing me from my slumber and flitting on the edges of my daytime. 

Sincerely,

Castiel  

 

Dean,

I got a job at the library. Three days a week, scanning books in and out. I'm reading more too, discovering all I missed in my years in heaven. I've managed to to also rent a small apartment. Old and dingy, but mine nonetheless. It's so perpetually odd, no angels, no demons, no anyone. The ache and anticipation of you walking around a corner has faded. As if somehow I know that I truly have been cut out of this story. It's so horrible but at the same time relieving to know that I'm alone. 

\- Castiel 

 

Dean, 

I think it's time I stopped these. I'm moving on, I'm trying to forget. I met a boy. He likes books too. Hemingway, Tolkien, Keys, and Nordholf. It's so different this time, we talk about our feelings. The other night, I had a nightmare, I screamed your name instead of his. But he didn't mind, he understood. It feels so good to be loved, to be appreciated. I always felt with you it was a race. That somehow you were the angel and I had to tether you to this miserable world. But now I have no doubt that your miserable death wish will win. But that was ages ago. So many moons have waxed and waned, our time was a mist, too perfect and tourtured to last. So goodbye Dean Wichester. And even now as I write it, I wonder where you are. Because in my mind, you are still in a corner perpetually driving the Impala down another empty road, small smile on your face as your favorite song comes on. So please, be safe, and take care of Sam. The world of my brethren is in your hands, I have no doubt in you. 

Goodbye,

Cas

 

I know it's going to be hard. We are going to struggle, but I also know that we really are the least of our worries. Don't forget that some day, when we are out of collage and living all these big dreams, don't forget that we are going to take the world by storm. Don't forget that we are unstoppable, that we are golden. We are so amazing, so utterly awesome, that we should have no worries for the future. Because how will we have time to worry about our friendship when we are tackling gender equality and world peace? This friendship right here, this is the foundation of all of these amazing things. We don't need to worry, and if we do... We can worry together. 

 

  
**I'm so glad I have you. Through all the fandoms and obsessions and stalking we were always such dorks. We still are, and I love it. I'm proud of us, we did it. And I want you to know that whatever the future holds, I'm here. Always have been, always will be. You know it's easier for me to write than to talk, that I am a woman of words in all their forms. And even as I have been writing this for the last month I still feel that I haven't said what I mean to. That something else is lingering on the edges. But whatever, this is for you because I love you and because nothing is going to change. Thanks for putting up with me. The past is gone, like dusk to dawn. So remember it darling.**


End file.
